Before attending the Worcester University of Art’s Therapeutic Landscapes conference last year, I never thought physical objects from the past were special in their own right. I assumed their value was in their potential meanings and uses for their makers, unless they were particularly visually striking.
Since then, the other artists at the conference and my studies in Mesolithic Archaeology have taught me to see things differently. The materiality – the animate natures and imbued qualities that objects can hold when crafted with belief and hope – feels magical. To touch, hold, and feel the weight and texture of these objects is a more embodied engagement with culture for us, too. It helps my body feel more real.
One such group of objects for me has been the Roos Carr god dollies. Last year, I hired a local artist to create a replica of one of these figures for Our Transcapes, which you can see at the top of this page. But why are they so exciting? When you’re trying to find evidence of non-dual living in prehistoric Britain and Ireland, they really hit the spot.
What’s a god dolly?
God dollies are wooden anthropomorphic figurines dating back to the Iron Age (c. 800 BCE – 43 CE), sometimes as far back as the Neolithic (the New Stone Age, c. 4,100-2,500 BCE). Interpreted as spiritually significant by archaeologists (hence their name, ‘god’ dolly), they were often deposited into bogs across North Europe as votive offerings.
On the continent, god dollies often come in ‘dimorphic pairs’ (where each doll represents one of the ‘binary’ sexes). But in Britain and Ireland, numerous figurines appear to represent sexes that are harder to categorise. For instance, some dolls have both male and female biological sex markers in one ‘body'(e.g., having both breasts and a phallus), while others have fluid sexes (such as having a removable phallus).
Discovering these objects was incredibly validating to me as a trans* person. It felt like they directly contradicted the current-day myths of the media: that transness – or any kind of non-binary mode of living – is new and unnatural. So how great would it be, I thought, to get one made? Briefing a professional artist to make a human figurine with a removable penis shouldn’t be too hard, right?
Jason Turpin-Thomson, Sheffield sculptor
Well, turns out you strike gold if you brief Jason Turpin-Thomson. After emailing tens of wood sculptors and artists from across the UK for this doll, only two responded – and one of them was perfect for our project.
Jason is a sculptor in Sheffield who has created many public works (the rocking chair in Rivelin River Valley, anyone?) His studio is littered with strange and wonderful sculptures made from bio-organic materials, like bone, wood, copper and iron. He undertook loads of research into these artefacts, and even visited the real Roos Carr figures in the Hull and East Riding Museum. I also learned that one of his family members belongs to the LGBTQ+ community. Perfect!
Mx Roos comes home
I couldn’t wait to collect the finished Roos Carr doll. Boy, the excitement I felt as I held it! Feeling that smooth holly, and the carved edges where Jason had used Iron Age-inspired tools and techniques, I found it easier than ever to relate to the Iron Age folks who made the originals. I can’t wait to see Our Transcapes participants get to do the same.
Thanks for bringing some ‘queer’ past to life, Jason – I hope to work with you again!
